


down together

by hearteating



Category: Coriolanus - Shakespeare
Genre: Choking, Extra Treat, Fights, Frottage, M/M, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 05:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17656811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearteating/pseuds/hearteating
Summary: We have been down together in my sleep,Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat





	down together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reconditarmonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reconditarmonia/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this, and have a good exchange!

At the first, it is a battle like any other battle. Everywhere is the clash of weapons, the grunts and cries of men, the smell of blood. Aufidius doesn't recognize the field, but it doesn't matter; he recognizes the men.

These are Martius' men.

He grins, thrusting his blade into an enemy soldier's chest, and when the man falls, there stands Martius himself. They lock eyes, Aufidius and he, and the rest of the men on the field fade away until only the two generals remain.

Martius strides toward him, shedding his armor-- unbuckling his helm, casting his breastplate and gauntlets aside. Aufidius matches his movements. It is right, he knows, that they face each other like this, their bodies the only weapons they need and nothing between them. His blood runs hot and his cock stirs. This, too, is right.

Their bodies meet. They grapple, skin to skin, for victory. Martius is quick and light on his feet, but Aufidius is heavier, and knows how to use his weight to his advantage. They are evenly matched, each pushing, neither giving way, round and round. They wear matching smiles as sharp as their blades.

_There_. Aufidius kicks Martius' legs out from under him, sending them tumbling down to the ground. He moves quickly to straddle his foe before Martius can recover his breath. In a heartbeat, Aufidius' hands are round Martius' noble throat. Is there so heady or delicious a feeling as that of your most cherished foe's life in your hands? If there is, Aufidius cannot think of it.

“Yield, Martius,” he says, bend close to speak into Martius' ear. Martius' heart is beating as fast as Aufidius' own.

“I'd as soon leap into Hell as yield to you,” Martius replies. He twists beneath Aufidius and succeeds only in dragging his firm belly across Aufidius' prick. Aufidius laughs and bears down on his hips and hands, rutting against Martius as his grip tightens.

“I expected nothing less.” Martius' vein pulses beneath Aufidius' hands. Their eyes meet once more, and Aufidius grinds down again. His blood courses hotter than fire; no sensation he has experienced comes close to this moment, here, now.

And then.

How it is done, Aufidius cannot say, only that it _is_ done, and Martius is no longer under him but over him. It is Martius' rough hands around Aufidius' throat now.

“Yield, Aufidius,” breathes Martius.

“Never.” He laughs, and Martius follows, the sound like the bark of a hound. His hands tighten round Aufidius' throat. The world narrows to the feel of Martius' hands, his heavy weight, the ache in Aufidius' cock.

And then.

Aufidius wake. His desire fades in the new morning light, and he cannot help but feel as if he has lost something.

“We will meet again, Martius,” he promises, speaking to no one but himself. “I swear I shall be the one to take your life into my hands.”


End file.
